Thirteen
by USSStargazer
Summary: When Marwen, a former refugee and soldier, meets a strange man with memory problems in a mental institution, he doesn't think much of it. That is, until the man drags him into an increasingly bizarre and exciting world full of people who seem to be trying to kill him, and a blue box that may or not travel through time and space. Original Doctor. Please review!


Marwen Saidani closed his eyes and breathed out, dark hands pressed into the cold plastic of the steering wheel. At forty-five, he told himself, he ought to be able to do this. It wasn't his first time. He doubted it would be his last time, either. But that didn't mean it got easier. Seeing Marie, his sister-in-law, was always a trial on his patience, his nerves, and his sanity. Still, he unclenched his fingers one by one from around the plastic of the old vehicle, unlocked the door with a click of the key, and then unfolded himself from the car. The building was lovely. It was tall and white with blue trimmings, old, not at all like the hospital that it was. Still, he couldn't say he liked it. What it had in warmth outside was more than made up for in the coldness of the interior. He tucked his long coat around him—he never could get used to the cold—and strode inside to give his name to the lady behind the desk, who was messing around with the small pad in her hand.

"I'm here to see Marine," he told her. His voice was low and, in spite of twenty years of living in the UK, faintly accented. He offered the dark-haired woman a smile. She smiled back.

"Lieutenant Marwen. Glad to see you again. She keeps mentioning you."

Marwen highly doubted this, but the secretary was trying to be kind. He could hardly blame her for it. He saw her most weeks. Her name was…Katie. She was having problems with her boyfriend, who didn't want to commit, and she gave all the patients their own nicknames. She seemed nice enough, but sometimes the way she smiled at him wanted to make him panic. She was half his age, and one marriage had been enough for Marwen. "Please, not lieutenant. I haven't been in the army for quite some time. I am just…Marwen, now." He waved his hand. "Is she in the music room?"

The secretary—_Katie _—gave a little shrug, as if saying 'where else?' "Feel free to go in. I'll sign you in."

"Thank you." He smiled at this surprising confidence, then turned and headed in, through the wide halls that accommodated many on walkers, murmuring to themselves, or being escorted by kindly nurses. _Allah protect me from hospitals_. He shivered again and yanked down the sleeves of his black coat over his tanned arms. Although he hated this, he always took care to spend one hour a week here. He'd promised his wife, one night when they'd been wrapped in each other's arms, that he'd look out for her sister, who had been in the hospital since she was a young girl as she was a danger to herself and others. Ariana had been quite worried about that. "She's very fragile, Marwen," she told him, resting her head against his chest, her curly black hair nearly covering his shoulders entirely. "And she likes you. You make for a very good support."

"Is that so?" he'd been bemused, he could recall. "Then why don't you ever need me?"

"I do too need you!" She'd laughed. "You would know if you ever stopped seeing me. Then you'd see how much I needed you."

In truth, the conversation might not have ever had more importance than that. Although Marwen liked Marine, the woman made him uneasy sometimes when she stared at him. He didn't think he liked what was going on in her head. However, a week later, his lovely Ariana had been killed in a car accident, and everything took on quite a bit more intensity. An idle promise became a deathbed oath, and Marwen began his once-a-week trips to see Marine. He'd conducted these for three years now.

He knew the way to the music room by heart, and could allow his feet to carry him on mechanically, waiting for the sounds he could always hear—the beautiful classical tones, drifting right into his ear. Like always, Marine played well. She never read from music. He'd talked to the doctors and nurses, and none seemed to know where she'd learned any of the tunes. She always played the same ones. Although Marwen didn't have a head for music, he'd memorized them all now. Sometimes he found himself staring at the ceiling, listening to the music in his own head and remembering her haunted expression.

Which showed, he reflected, that he really ought to get more sleep. He shook himself out of the morbid thoughts and leaned against the wall, staring inside and watching. There Marine was, hair neatly plaited by one of the nurses, bleached-pale fingers dancing over the keys. There was no one else in the room. Unable to nerve himself to step in and interrupt her yet, he leaned against the doorframe and watched her play, arms folded over his chest.

"She plays splendidly."

The voice made him start, and he turned to face a stranger who was shorter than his near seven-foot height, but didn't seem to mind, judging by the impish grin on his face. He was young, possibly in his late twenties, with curly and dirty blonde hair that fell over his forehead. His eyes were a lively brown, and he had broad shoulders with a square jaw. He was not that unusual, not really. But the intelligence in his eyes would have made Marwen peg him as a doctor or a nurse, when his clothing clearly revealed him to be a patient. An interesting conundrum.

"'Without music, life would be a mistake,'" the man quoted, that smile still obvious in his eyes. Then he tilted his head to the side. "I wonder who said that."

"Nietzsche, I think."

"Was it? What a frightful bore. I don't think I'll go quoting him anymore. Is she your…sister?" The man's smile was bothering Marwen, but not like the secretary's. While hers had held a hint of a flirt, this man's held understanding, cheer, and yet a similar loss to what he saw in Marine's expression sometimes. And when he looked in the mirror.

"My in-law," he corrected.

"Ah, I see." The man's face brightened. "I think I hated my in-laws. Or did I like them?" Then his expression fell again. "I'm not sure."

Perhaps there was a reason why he was in here after all. "You don't remember?"

"Not a lot." The man smiled at him as if this didn't bother him at all, and then his expression became more serious as he reached forward and grabbed the lapels of Marwen's coat. "I know you."

Smiles and words could make Marwen nervous in a way that physical actions never could. He didn't flinch at the way that the man grabbed his coat, didn't flinch as he stood on tip-toe to lean in as close as he could to stare into Marwen's eyes. Marwen didn't know why he had that reaction. He didn't know why words could scare him but actions never could. But he did know that he could never back down from a challenge. So when the other man stared at him, he stared right back until, at last, the other man's grip eased on his clothing, and the smile reappeared on his face.

"Lieutenant Marwen Saidani, the stateless," he said. "I don't know why, but I do like you."

Marwen realized he hadn't been breathing. He managed to inhale sharply and shifted back away from the blonde man, who was staring at him again in…what? Curiosity? Why? Oddly enough, Marwen thought he could reciprocate it. He didn't think this man belonged here. Where he belonged was unclear, but someplace…bigger. Yeah. "I like you too, I think," he said. "What is your name?"

The man laughed. "You think? You say that a lot, especially when I bet you mean 'I know.' I don't know what my name is! They listed me under Doe until I corrected it to Smith, but that's not my name either. I call myself the Doctor." The music had stopped now. Marwen could hear Marine's soft steps approaching him.

"Doctor of what?" he asked, not ready to face her, not ready to let the man go. But there were _real _doctors approaching, in long white lab coats, and he realized that it was all he was going to get out of the other man, because the expression on his face was definitely not cheerful anymore.

"That's always the question, isn't it? Watch out for blue-eyes!" The doctors came and each took one of the man's arms, forcing him to call the question over his shoulder. "He bites!"

And that seemed to be the end of it. Marwen watched him go, then turned to Marine. Silent, staring Marine, with the marks on her arms and on her face. Right. He managed to summon a smile, then gently took her elbow and led her in.


End file.
